


In My Blood

by katswriting



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Gen, Murder, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, general angst with some comfort, mentions of - Freeform, no specific timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:40:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29033313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katswriting/pseuds/katswriting
Summary: There are times when the line between The Winter Soldier and Bucky becomes blurred, but you’re there to try help put the pieces back together.Based on the lyrics:It’s like the walls are caving inLaying on the bathroom floor, feeling nothingI’m overwhelmed and insecure,Someone help meI’m crawling in my skinIt isn’t in my bloodCan’t breatheI need somebody nowIt isn’t in my blood- “In My Blood” - Shawn Mendes
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/You
Kudos: 12





	In My Blood

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: ptsd, blood, murder, mentions of torture, general angst
> 
> First time writing for Bucky so hope this goes ok!

_Smoke._

_Fire._

_Screaming._

_The Winter Soldier walked towards the wreckage, the screams of the people still inside echoing through the silence of the night air. Flames licked at his feet, but he paid no attention to it, his focus on the people who were trapped in the car; The people he had been sent to kill._

_“Please! I’m begging you, don’t do this!”_

_He could hear the broken sobs and terrified begging, but he didn’t care. He could no longer care about anything. Programmed only to carry out his assignment._

_Lifting the gun to the driver’s forehead, he ignored the pleas as they became frantic. There was no mercy, no sympathy. Hydra had made sure of that._

_Looking straight into the eyes of his victim, he pulled the trigger._

Bucky jerked out of his sleep, legs kicking out at the blankets that he was tangled up in. His eyes frantically looked around the room, heartbeat steadying slightly when he realized he was home. Swallowing hard, he brought his hand to his chest, fingers clutching his dog tags tightly. They were a reminder of who he was before. Before Hydra had come and stripped away his identity.

Moonlight was streaming in through the windows, casting a soft glow of light and yet the room felt small. The walls around him felt like they were caving in; trapping him. Getting up, he stumbled towards the bathroom and leaned onto the ceramic sink, taking a few moments to try and steady his breathing. He turned on the water and let it run in the sink before splashing some of it on his face, letting the drops drip off his chin.

Memories flashed through his mind of his time with Hydra; memories of pain, of fear, and of hopelessness.

He looked up and stared at himself in the mirror. He wanted to see James Buchanan Barnes, but he could only see the empty, unforgiving stare of the Winter Soldier looking back at him. The face of a killer who had taken countless lives. His metal hand squeezed the sink tightly causing it to crack underneath his fingers. Letting out a frustrated yell, Bucky punched the mirror, shattering it into pieces and causing him to stumble backward. His back hit the wall and he slid down onto the tiled floor.

He stared at his hand, looking at the blood leaking from the cuts and tiny pieces of glass embedded in the skin.

Blood on his hands.

Blood of the people he had killed.

Blood that he would never be able to wash off.

_Is this what I’m meant to be?_

A tool for Hydra to use when they needed to kill; a body to torture whenever they were bored.

_Is being a killer in my blood?_

His chest was tight and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He was free from Hydra, but for how long. How long before they would find him again. The fear was overwhelming, he could feel it crawling underneath his skin and he wanted to rip away at it until he could free himself from their control.

His trembling fingers reached for the phone in his pocket, ignoring the blood smears on the screen as he pulled up your contact. He needed someone.

You picked up on the second ring, concern taking over as you heard him say your name with a broken voice.

“I need you”

———————————————-

“Bucky?” you called out as you entered the apartment, setting your set of spare keys on the counter. There was no answer, but you could see the light streaming in through the half-shut bathroom door.

Knocking lightly on the door to announce your presence, you cautiously pushed it open. Your eyes went straight to Bucky, who was seated on the floor, head leaning against the wall with his eyes staring aimlessly ahead. His arm was resting on his knee; blood dripping onto the floor and even from where you stood you could see the slight tremor of his hand. Your eyes moved to the mirror and the broken pieces of glass scattered on the floor and understood where the blood was coming from.

You grabbed a towel from the towel rack and made your way over to him, wrapping his hand loosely in the towel, careful not to add pressure to the pieces of glass, but not wanting blood to keep dripping on the floor. Kneeling down, you placed his arm around your shoulder and grabbed his waist, using your legs to guide both you and Bucky up off the floor.

“Come on Buck, up we go” you mumbled as you both stood, clenching your jaw as he leaned his weight on you. You knew that he wasn’t listening to you, too lost in his head to register your words. This wasn’t the first time that Bucky struggled with his past and you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

There were times when you had spent the night, woken up by screams, or desperate pleas; and there were other times where he would just shut down, retreat deep within himself. It broke your heart to see him go through that, but you knew that you had to be strong. You needed to be strong for him at times where he couldn’t be strong for himself.

You guided him to the edge of the bed where he took a seat and you grabbed the first aid kit that was in his dresser. Standing between his legs, you brought a hand to his cheek, letting it rest there for a moment.

“Come back to me Bucky,” you sighed as you let your hand drop and started gathering the supplies.

“Alright, let’s get this cleaned up,” you said to yourself as you took his hand and gently started taking the pieces of glass out with some tweezers. You weren’t worried about the actual cuts, knowing that his healing factor would take care of them, but you knew that his healing wouldn’t get much done with the shards in the way.

It was methodical, concentrating on each piece as your eyes glanced back at him every few minutes to check up on him. Pulling the last piece out, you wrapped his hand in a bandage and held it for a moment, wishing that his fingers would curl into yours.

“Who am I?” Bucky spoke quietly. You jump slightly, not expecting to hear his voice break the silence of the room. You turn to him, eyebrows furrowed and unsure of what he was asking. He was still staring ahead, but there was no longer the empty look in his eyes, the look replaced with vulnerability and anger.

“Hydra took everything away from me and they left me with nothing; no identity, no control over my own damn mind,” he paused and laughed dryly “Who am I? I’m nothing more than a killer,” he continued, his voice rising as he went on. His hands grasped your waist, fingers gripping your shirt tightly and he brought you closer to him. He buried his face in your abdomen and you brought your arms to rest on the top of his shoulders, fingers running through his hair to soothe him.

“I just want to be me again,” he said, words muffled by your shirt. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath, fingers tangling in his hair as you thought of what to say next.

“Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?”

Bucky pulled away slowly, looking up at you with a guarded look.

“I see James Buchanan Barnes,” you continued, “I see someone kind, someone selfless and caring.”

You bent down to his level to be able to look at him eye-to-eye, “You are not a killer. You are _not_ the Winter Soldier.”

Bucky guided you over to his lap, holding you tightly against him once more. You moved his hair to the side and pressed a kiss to his temple. You hated Hydra, you hated that they had taken someone so special and had torn him apart. You knew that your words would never be enough to fully heal, that was something that he had to do himself, but you would do your best to remind him of he who was when he got lost within himself. Being a killer wasn’t in his blood and you would do everything in your power to help him remember that.


End file.
